


the death's eyes

by apricotsunset



Category: 13 Reasons Why (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:41:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25554487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apricotsunset/pseuds/apricotsunset
Summary: “Once you’re gone, all that’s left is what you didn’t do. Or what you did do, but did wrong”Monty's last moments before his death.
Relationships: Montgomery de la Cruz/Winston Williams
Comments: 12
Kudos: 64





	the death's eyes

**Author's Note:**

> hi, a short clarification before we start: with this fic, i absolutely do not mean to justify or condone any of monty's actions, i am aware that he has done terrible, terrible things, and he was a bad person, and by no means do i want to change this narrative. 
> 
> i'm not trying to clear monty's name, i'm just trying to give him "backstory", but if what i wrote is problematic, please let me know

It hurts, so damn much I feel like I’m on the verge of fainting. Fuck all those action movies for making people believe that you can carry on saving the world or whatever you’re dealing with even when you’re wounded. Truth is, all you can do is squirm in pain and wait for the inevitable.

I have no idea how much time has passed since I fell on the floor with a shiv in my stomach, but it couldn’t have been too long, judging from how my murderer bid farewell to me. “Enjoy last few minutes of your life”, probably the last words I will ever get to hear, yet it seems like I’ve been here for hours, doing nothing but making those God awful noises and watching as the pool of blood around me gets bigger and bigger.

What do you do in the last minutes of your life? I’ve never really prepared for this moment, but who would’ve thought that I would spend my last moments on Earth as a 17-year-old, lying in the middle of a jail hallway, not even being able to move properly because of the chains. It’s not like I’ve never thought of dying but I rather expected being shot in the head and being gone within seconds. This biker guy could’ve at least slit my throat and saved me all of the trouble, but I guess that’s too much mercy to ask for as a child molester.

At least I’ve been given some time for self-examination, but all I can think of is the huge list of all of my mistakes, rolling right before my eyes like some ending credits for a movie.

Those nearly 18 years of my life? I fucked up, I fucked up everything I could have. Pretty much every day consisted of me doing something wrong, doing things I never should have done, saying words I regretted right after they left my mouth, going to sleep every day with a feeling that the whole world hates me. Somehow it felt better that way. It’s not like I deserved anything better than hate.

I’ve always been a failure, at least in my father’s eyes. Always drunk, always pissed off, I can’t remember him without this angry look on his face, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him smile. He always made sure I was paying for all of my mistakes – first, it was a belt that served as the judicature, then replaced by a cable, and finally, anything he had at hand. At some point it felt as if it stopped hurting, but he got even more creative, to the point I lost control of what violence really was – and that led me to the biggest mistakes of my life.

I can’t help but see Tyler Down’s face right before my eyes, just as I feel another wave of pain going through my body. It almost seems funny how I thought that time was the end of my life, as if losing Bryce and a chance for a baseball scholarship was the worst thing that could happen to me. All I had in my head that day was to teach this stupid twink a lesson and get some respect in Bryce’s eyes, all I wanted to do was to make someone pay for ruining my life, as if I didn’t do most of the damage myself.

Bryce was right. I always have been a fucking coward, doing just enough to live through the day, but never enough to get away from this monster of a father and the vicious cycle of everyday abuse I was going through. I could’ve done anything to help the situation, I could’ve just simply asked for help, but was anyone ever listening? Shit, I’ve told so many people about what was happening to me at home, and no one ever did anything, even a fucking police officer couldn’t care less about some troubled kid.

But I could’ve tried harder. Scotty tried to talk to me about it, so did Coach Kerba, even this St. George kid wanted to help me, but every time someone brought up the topic, I either snapped at them or remained silent. Maybe if I opened up, I would have ended up like Justin, who got adopted by the Jensens and now lives a decent life, even if he was a fucking junkie living on the streets.

But why would you open up if all people do is hurt you and leave?

It happened every fucking time. I thought Scott cared, but he turned his back on me; I thought Bryce cared but all he wanted was to have another pawn in control; even if there was anyone else who cared, they would’ve left soon. That’s what I can be sure of, because at the end everyone just tossed me away like some piece of trash.

I can’t help but wonder what is going to happen in the following hours, after I finally lose the ability to feel or think and all that will be left of me is this cold, shredded body. No one is going to bother setting up a funeral, that’s for sure, I doubt they’re even going to get me a grave. All I ever brought to the house was shame and trouble, I don’t even belong to the family anymore, a criminal, and a fag on top of that.

I feel tears starting to stream down my face, yet another ingredient of this disgusting mix of blood and spit forming on my cheeks. It gets into my mouth and I choke yet once again, and my whole body starts to shiver. I try to breathe, but it gets too hard to even inhale properly and it feels like I’m already losing the grip of reality.

Estela… I see her face, right before my eyes, this terrified stare she gave me every time I was coming back home all covered up in bruises, knowing our father is lying unconscious in the frontyard. All I wanted to do was to make her safe, not give her the taste of what dad’s ‘love’ was really like, but I felt like failing all the time, every time I saw her with a bruise on her chin when I wasn’t home to take a hit for her, every time she saw yet another of my outbursts I never wanted her to witness.

I wanted her to be the only person that could believe I can be more than just a ruthless monster, I really did, but even this seemed impossible. I saw that in the way she looked at me; first, she lost this playful grin on her face, then her eyes changed, and before I could do anything about it, she just looked at me the same way as she looked at our father. I tried to do whatever I could to take that back, but even she wasn’t convinced that there’s any good left in me, thinking I’m no different than our dad. If she couldn’t believe that, how could anyone else?

And I couldn’t save her, not even this last time. She’s going to be left alone now, no one to protect her from that monster of a father, even though I know she still believes mom’s going to finally do something, but she’s always been a coward, just like me. Maybe the football players will take proper care of Estela, give her some safe space just to get her through high school and into normal life far away from Evergreen, that’s all I can hope for. She’ll get a proper education, maybe become a psychologist, just like she always wanted, find someone who can treat her well and forget about the worst years of her life spent in the de la Cruz’s household. All I can hope for is for her to live a normal life, something that I couldn’t provide her, even though I did all I could.

My trembling gets even more intense and I feel like even the slightest movement of my body causes terrible pain. It’s probably only a matter of seconds, I think, just a while and I’ll be gone. Half of the school is going to hold a party because of that, my family finally won’t have to spend so much money on food, I’ll be forgotten in a matter of days and whatever trace there is of me, it’ll disappear. Not even pictures will be left, this Down kid surely didn’t take any of me.

But then a sight of camera flashes through my eyes, and this one doesn’t belong to Tyler, it’s pretty new, compared to all of the vintage shit Down is using. I see the view clearly in my head, a mop of curly brown hair right behind the lense and a smile I see right after I hear the snapshot. He puts his camera down and stares at me, the way no one ever did, with a playful grin that seemed to never leave his face, maybe except that one time when I decided to beat the shit out of him for no reason.

Out of all the people, the last one I ever think of has to be him, hasn’t it? I can’t even feel my legs, all of my muffled breaths are now leaving my mouth with a trace of blood, but the image of the boy is still clear and right before my eyes, the slideshow of all the few encounters we managed to have. There hasn’t been many, simply because there was not enough time, but those few moments in the past few weeks we’ve been given… I can’t remember when I was this happy, I doubt I ever felt as much joy as with him.

I don’t know why he agreed to talk to me again in the first place, after I treated him like shit, but he did, and for the first time I felt like I was more than just Montgomery de la Cruz that everyone knew, the fucked up kid that never felt anything besides anger. He made me feel like I really had some chance left in life to become a normal human being, not a product of my toxic environment, putting trust in me I knew I never deserved. The way he looked at me, it reminded me of Estela before she realized that there’s no hope for me, he treated me the way no one ever did. For a short moment, I felt like maybe I didn’t have to be hated by everyone, like there was a way out of this mess if I just let somebody in… but it was too late.

It was only a matter of time for him to get to know the real me, though. I’m sure that if he was there he would’ve spat on me just like my father did, after realizing who I truly was. He wouldn’t get to love me, no one ever did, I would push him away or do even worse things to him, so that he won’t get close and hurt me just like everyone else did. But those few moments that we shared together, those few evenings where I stayed with him in his room and did nothing but hold him, it felt so right, like there was a way out of this hell hole, even though I should’ve known it’s inescapable.

Had I known him earlier, maybe things would’ve been different, but it was way too late. It _is_ way too late, too late to fix anything, just as I’m laying down on this cold hard floor, losing the grip of the world, choking up on tears mixed with blood, thinking about what it could’ve been if things weren’t so messed up, if just one thing in my life was in my favor.

I never believed in afterlife, but if there is any, I’m still on my way to the deepest of hells. Well, at least there’s a chance Bryce will be there waiting for me. He’s probably gonna laugh at me for being so fucking stupid, and we can accompany each other on this eternal misery.

It truly is inescapable.

My vision gets blurred, and I’m not sure if it’s because of the tears I can’t manage to blink away, or is it because the time has finally come. I see his face yet once again, caressing my cheek, even though I know so bad I never deserved that.

“’m sorry” I mutter, before taking my one last breath.

His sparkling eyes are the last thing I see before the darkness.

**Author's Note:**

> english is not my first language, so sorry for any mistakes. any kind of feedback would be kindly appreciated!


End file.
